This episode may contain content that is not suitable for all audiences. Listener discretion
is advised, especially for those under the age of thirteen. Welcome to Endo
the Night. I'm Narri your guide on today's excursion down a twisted path.
Be careful not to get lost. Be it dark or light, it's easy
to lose your way. Are you ready? Then let's begin an ounce of
prevention Part one. I've been called a lot of things, but I've never
been called a liar, and I don't plan on breaking that streak now.
I've seen a lot, been to many places, and met some strange people
in my time. One of them sticks out, though, and I catch
myself mulling this over in my mind even when I'm not trying to think about
it. My grandmother used to say, ted, the last thing you want
to know is a secret, because it will whittle await you and leave you
worse off than you were before. Grandma Rose was a wise woman, and
I sure could use her advice right about now, I guess, truth be
told, I'm not keeping any secrets at this point, because I'm talking about
it now. The big question is where to start. As good a place
as any is when I was about twenty five. I started a new job
at the Orchard Street Community Hospital downtown after years of not knowing what I wanted
to do for a living. I studied hard for my Certified Nurse's Assistant test,
and I was rewarded with a job in the worst hospital in five counties.
I didn't mind. I had a job for a fellow like me who
wasn't interested in much. I was happy to find one doing something I thought
could help people. I started working the night shift once my orientation ended.
I liked the and I didn't have to deal with as many people that way,
just patience, but they weren't a problem. It's the general public I
have a hard time putting up with. That's kind of beside the point,
but it does explain why I enjoyed working at a time when some folks would
be spooked to be where people could die in the dark. On some slow
nights, I sat with patients. Many felt lonely or abandoned. Others needed
watchful eyes over them to keep them from harming themselves during times of mental or
emotional distress. I talked to them, soothed frayed nerves, and gave them
a hand to hold. For some, I think I was the first person
in a long time who listened to them, especially the elderly. Many hovered
near death and knew it. I tried to make their last hours or days
a little less sad. I'm not saying I succeeded, but I tried,
and that's probably the best anyone can do for someone who's feeling scared and alone.
It was good for me too. A few patients I became attached to.
Missus Moseley was one of those people. Her blue eyes came alive as
she told me of adventures she had as a young girl. Her two sisters
and three brothers grew up during a time when parents didn't feel compelled to watch
them every second. Yes, they had a few close calls, but she
said those added excitement. Most adventures were wholesome and safe. However, trips
to the creek, camping in the woods, and riding bikes from miles occupied
much of their young lives. At ninety three, she outlived her brothers and
sisters. She longed to see them, her parents, and long ago friends
who passed. We had hours of wonderful conversations until she died in the wee
hours of the morning. In late July, Kyle Waverley left a mark on
me too. A young man who seemed to have everything to live for,
suffered terrible injuries in a motorcycle accident. Still keen mentally, his paralysis threw
him into a deep depression. After we saved him once, during which time
he and I had many lengthy talks in the dark of night. He returned
to us a few weeks after his release. He couldn't overcome the drastic change
in his abilities, and he used a pistol to end his life. He
lingered for a while, but when I was called to help a nurse down
the hall, he slipped away from the life his family still held so precious.
An athletic, good looking kid, his wounds hit him more deeply mentally
than physically. His injuries and death bother me to this day. I hate
to see potential lost. Henry Garrison, Myra Leonard, and Adel Lundrum also
hold special places in my heart. Myra couldn't speak by the time I met
her, but the fear eased out of her eyes, and she smiled weakly
at me when I'd hold her hand and gently brush her hair. It's the
little things we do at big moments that sometimes mean the most. Henry was
a car officionado and Adele once won a regional beauty pageant. They enjoyed sharing
their memories with me, I think because they knew soon they'd be no more
than memories themselves. The patient's left impressions on me, that's true. But
the person I'll never forget was Marine Willhite. She began as a CNA about
the same time I did, and she requested the night shift, so we
spent a lot of time together. A gorgeous brunette with a girlish figure and
a quick wit, spending time with her was a joy. I confess that
sometimes I requested working extra days just so I could spend more time around her.
I'm not much to look at, and I don't have much to offer,
but at times Maureene or Mo as she liked to be called, made
me forget those facts. She kept me laughing and was kind enough to chuckle
at my jokes. When we weren't with patients, we took every opportunity we
could to visit as we stocked supplies and worked on other errands. I don't
know how I looked out with this job. Why do you say that,
Ted, this place is lucky to have you. You do a great job,
and the patients love you. Thanks. But I never thought i'd have
a job like this one. I floundered for a long time before I became
a CNA. I get to work with friends like you most mild I feel
the same way. I've always been a night owl, so this shift works
great for me, but it's hard to make friends on this schedule. I'm
lucky to have you as a friend and a coworker too. I blushed,
and she had to have noticed, because she made an excuse to go down
the hall right after that, saving me from further embarrassment. Our bond grew
day by day, or maybe I should say night by night. We shared
a common concern for our patients. You're so good with them, Ted.
Mister Connery told me about how nice you are, and that you know almost
as much about baseball as he does. Almost He's a hoot. He's right
though. He always has some piece of trivia that he pulls out of his
memory that amazes me. Well, he has more years to draw from.
When you're in your nineties, you'll know more than you know now too.
I hadn't thought of it that way. I enjoy talking to old people.
They lived the history that we only read about, and they've developed a lot
of wisdom. More people like me should take time to talk with them.
Maybe then they wouldn't do so many stupid things. Young people like you do
make stupid mistakes. She paused, I can't relate to most people out there.
They're not very interesting, in my opinion. I guess that's what brings
us to this place. To ringing bell on the opposite end of the hall
ended our conversation, and we hurried away to assist nurses and patients. A
few nights later, I drew up enough courage to ask her a question that
demanded to be asked. I was wondering if you'd like to go out sometime
on a date. Yeah, she winced, it was a stupid question.
I'm sorry. I turned to walk away. Moe grabbed my arm. Wait,
it's not what you think. I'd like to go on a date with
you. I really would, I believed the sincerity in her eyes. Then
why won't you I can't tell you, but just know that if I could,
I would not. Completely satisfied with her answer, I shrugged and walked
away. At that moment, I felt better sitting next to an unconscious patient
than I did facing the girl I thought I was the most comfortable. We
had a few awkward evenings at work until I swallowed my pride enough to accept
that she just wanted to be friends. No more. My friend's list was
short, just one, and that was Mo. I didn't want to risk
losing her friendship, and I realized it wasn't her fault that I wanted more
than she did. After a while we were back to normal. We had
a rash of deaths on our floor, and many of our conversations revolved around
those. Some of these deaths weren't even expected. I feel relieved. I
guess MO that so far I haven't been in the room when someone dies.
It's special and traumatic at the same time. Special, What do you mean?
It's kind of an honor to know I was there during this natural part
of life and that they weren't alone. That's true. I know I wouldn't
want to be alone when I die. I found out accidentally that the deaths
were the talk of the nurses station too. One night, I carried a
box of supplies to the storage room across from the station. Three nurses huddled
together talking and I caught snippets of their conversations. One stopped me cold,
and I listened from inside the storage room. I think there's something weird going
on. She's always with them when they die. Yeah, it's more than
a coincidence that it's always her with a patient when it happens. It's never
us or one of the other SNAs, it's always Mareen. I thought my
heart would stop beating, not because of what they said, as unsettling as
that was. No, it was because, deep in the back of my
mind, I too was troubled by Moe's tendency to be in the room when
a death occurred. Something didn't seem right. I hope she isn't doing anything
to them, you mean, like killing them. Thank you for joining me
for this episode of the Into the Night anthology podcast. Written by Caroline Giamanco,
narrated by Nari Quak, Theme music by Nico Rodriguez, all other original
music, sound design and editing by Omenhawk Studios. You can find our links
in the show notes. Into the Night is on your favorite podcatcher, so
make sure to like, subscribe and leave a five star review to help other
excursionists to join us. I'll see you next time, and remember, whether
in the shadows or in the daylight, all twisted paths lead you into the
night. Into the Night Anthology is a creative typo entertainment production